Little King (Seoksoo)

Prologue

June 18, 1815

Waterloo, Belgium

All Seokmin knew was pain.

The round shot from the British cannons had torn apart his infantry's formation. He didn't know how many had survived, but it didn't seem to matter anymore.

Seokmin didn't have much time left himself.

On his back on the hard ground, struggling to breathe, he knew he had been hit somewhere on his lower body, his hip or thigh maybe, but he was too afraid to look down to see the damage. He could feel the blood rapidly leaving his body. He knew he didn't have long.

He was starting to feel very cold. That couldn't be a good sign.

A shadow fell over Seokmin's face, blocking his view of the clouds. He struggled to focus his gaze. Had a medic found him?

The man looming over him didn't look like a soldier from either side, but his green eyes were nonetheless focused on Seokmin with unnerving intensity.

"Your leader has fled, I believe." The man's French was accentless, so Seokmin wasn't sure what he meant by "your leader." Their leader should be the same. Seokmin said nothing in response.

"Do you want the pain to stop?" The man's voice was low and soft but somehow carried perfectly, even over the groans of the wounded men around them.

Seokmin shook his head, the man's green eyes looking almost amused at his response. "And why not?"

"With this injury, if the pain stops, it means I am dead," Seokmin managed to rasp out.

"And you do not wish to die? Even with the pain?"

Seokmin shook his head again. He wasn't ready. He wanted to see his family again. His sisters, his parents. He didn't want to die in a foreign country, his fellow soldiers lost.

"What if I could stop the pain and still promise you a long, long life?" Soft fingers traced Seokmin's face.

It sounded too good to be true. A deal with the devil, but Seokmin was beyond caring. He nodded frantically. "Then yes. Please. Please help." His voice came out gurgled this time, and he could taste the metallic tang of his own blood in his mouth.

The stranger's fingers stilled. "If I help you, what will you do for me?"

"What do you want?" Seokmin would give him anything.

"Will you promise to stay by my side?"

It was a strange request, to come from a man he'd never met before, but easy enough to answer. "I promise."

The man smiled. Straight white teeth. "Close your eyes."

Seokmin shut his eyes, hoping his leg wasn't about to be amputated here on the hard ground. Was that what he had just agreed to?

A sharp prick of pain but not at his leg.

On his neck. A bite. The man was...drinking?

Seokmin opened his eyes, tilting his head to gaze at the face latched at his neck, and the pair of eyes that met his own were no longer green. They were entirely black, no iris or whites showing at all. As if each pupil had expanded over the entire eye.

The man's mouth was smeared red. Smeared with Seokmin's blood, which was dripping off fangs Seokmin was sure hadn't been there a moment ago.

A hallucination?

Seokmin wanted to scream, but he was too tired to manage even a gasp. He'd grown even colder. He was fading.

The last words he heard before the darkness took over: "Remember your promise."